Wynn makes a frustrated sound and goes to retrieve her Judgement Rod, a tall shiny staff with a large gemstone set in the top. She feels the holy energy thrum through her.

She could just not and tell Luna to lick her-

"No. Just fucking no, no way, that shit is evil I can feel it." She growls to herself and mutters. "Bonk, go to hornyjail. Fuck you brain I am not a fucking SLAVER."

Deep breath. She looks at Luna again and composes a likely spell in her head, frowning.

Luna waits, screaming internally smiling pleasantly.

She wants the nasty curse on this thing, shackling the mind, to Go Away. Keeping this goal firmly in mind and targeting the flows of magic she can sense in the inscriptions, she intones, "Thelchirr gampeslo."

And starts channeling mana aspected to block out foreign magic and wither the 'attack' away, inserting it into the lines of the maliciously enchanted collar at a steady rate.

Luna sits quietly, the same false smile frozen on her face as Wynn channels her spell. If anything, she's even starting to smell a little aroused, as the effects of her unwise indulgence begin to make themselves known.

Get it off get it off get it off!

Magic items are naturally somewhat resistant to external forces, whether physical or magical.

It feels strange?

Even without going to any particular trouble to implement defences or security precautions, the nature of the way the magic is bound to runes makes runic items stable and durable... and difficult to damage with simple brute force.

Ow!

It's not impossible to destroy a magic item in this way, but it's also not easy.

It hurts! Get it off!

Nor is it without side effects.

OWWW! It hurts! It hurts!

Even a common Slave Collar would have some protections against tampering or destruction.

No wait, stop! It hurts too much...

The collar around Luna's neck is not a common example of its kind; it was designed to restrain and suppress an exceptional individual, and has extensive defences against exactly this sort of tampering.

It hurts it hurts it hurts!

Of course, there's only so much condition-response that can be factored into a simple runic item.

Stop! Don't hurt Luna!

This one's pretty straightforward, though.

It hurts it hurts it hurts make it stop...

If a bunch of magic is being put into the collar in a crude brute-force dispel attempt, that's probably because a desperate and magically-gifted slave is trying to break free.

Nonononono stop please stop!

Therefore: punish the slave.

AAAAAAAAAA!

Escalate punishment until interference ceases.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

Luna remains smiling and motionless, but a single tear drips down her cheek as she sits. The scent of arousal competes with the growing scent of fear.

She pushes steadily on the curse, trying to overwhelm it, watching what it does.

She doesn't notice the changing smell- She's not actually used to using scent as a main sensory modality, and hers is not that sensitive. She sees the tear, though, and winces and hisses out a breath as she drops the spell.

"-Shit, oh hell, are you okay? I don't know, I- Dammit! I'm such a useless reckless prick, yeah, just shove magic at it, that'll work. Fuck, it wasn't working, like at all. I hope I didn't hurt you too much. Stupid, stupid, this isn't a video game..."

She's pacing, hackles of her tail raised in an alarm and fear display.

Luna doesn't respond, or move, at all, but another tear drips down her face. There's no room for anything inside but pain right now.

To Wynn's magical senses, something was definitely able to handle, and even process some of the magic she was sending into the collar, and now it's doing something different from what it was doing before. It'd be easier to figure out what if the runes were directly visible, instead of being concealed.

Yeah no she is not fucking with that right now, she's half-panicking. She's scared to try anything else, muttering about anesthetic spells? Or knocking Luna to sleep? But would that make it worse?? If it's not touching the collar maybe it'd be fine?????

...She does, after a good twenty seconds of Luna being locked up, try something - away from the collar, holy magic, healing magic, shaped as a painkiller. She's used it on herself before. She feels out the flow of energy, ready to kill it if it seems to be reacting with the collar at all.

There's no reaction from Luna, but Wynn can feel her magic running into a different flow of magic from the collar. It feels like it's doing exactly the opposite of what she's trying to do.

She kills it in the first half-second. "Fuck this fucking thing god fucking dammit who the fuck does this!"

She clearly can't do anything here-

-Except feed Luna a bit of this minty-smelling herb her Convenient Instincts had her gather as a natural painkiller, much less effective than actual magic but? Maybe? It can't make anything worse? (It totally could, but: Panic.)

Luna isn't moving anything right now, including her mouth and throat. She's crying quite a bit, though.

There is nothing Wynn can do about that right now!!!! So she'll just keep feeling terrible for being so stupid and reckless!!!! "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

In that case, it'll just keep happening for at least a few more minutes.

Wynn... Puts Luna onto her bed, paces and panics, and then leaves the house.

She darts back in a bit later, holding four dripping (recently thawed by fire magic from her little cellar freezer thing) rabbits.

When she returns, she finds Luna asleep, with the collar no longer tormenting her.

She has to make this right.

She puts down the rabbits by her bed, quietly gathers up much of her stuff - the magic gear, at least, and particularly the air magic totem-thing she made that provides a constant stream of fresh air, and runs out into the hills, away from the edge of the rainforest. 

Those slavers are still poking around, she thinks. They might know how collars work.

Wynn still remembers where she first encountered the slavers, and she's seen signs of their presence in the area since then. They aren't necessarily still after her in more than the opportunistic sense; she's not aware of having been tracked back to her home, and there haven't been any signs of an intelligent attempt to dismantle her magical defences. It's been a while since she first encountered them, though, and she's still seeing signs of their presence when she ventures too far from the treeline. Perhaps they also have a camp nearby? If so, the trick will be finding it on favorable terms, rather than being caught by the slavers' patrols.

Yeah, she went pretty far away from them and pretty fast. She still gets tired, but between magic and her DEX-monster-ness she covered a lot of ground in three, four days of effortful travel. 

Utility magic runes can point her to the closest whatever-she-can-sufficiently-define. "Human that's not her or Luna" in this case. She has some instructions about how to do scrying, too, but you need to have something specific in mind and know where it is first, for that. She uses a carved wooden compass to find the nearest person... Though actually, even if she's in the middle of nowhere that might be another traveller or something, rather than those damn slavers.

Back west a ways first, then, staying in valleys and tall grasses, and once she's gotten most of the way back to where she dropped in using the compass to find and shadow anyone in the area.

Her first success with the spell leads her to a grove of huge pink flowers, which fill the air with a sweet and aphrodisiac haze. Their petals have an almost fleshy aspect to them, making the closed blossoms look almost like mouths (easily big enough to 'swallow' a person), and the thick purple vines sprouting form each pod have a definite tentacular aspect, especially in the way they occasionally twitch. These factors might encourage Wynn to keep her distance... except for the sight of the target of her spell, a young woman near the centre of the grove, whose nude form is engulfed in one of the flowers to her waist, while several tentacular vines entwine themselves around her body and gently molest her breasts. She doesn't seem to have noticed Wynn yet.

She notices herself getting hornier at that strange, pleasant smell. It's like the medley of a Yankee Candle store but better, making her really want to walk up and get a good, deep whiff of it. And it's also, she's pretty sure, an aphrodisiac. She doesn't actually recognize this kind of plant, unlike the useful herbs and trees she knows, which is... Concerning. Also, they're raping someone. So, yeah, clearly a threat.

Luckily after the slavers attacked her with airborne poison, she spent all that time making a personal air supply! It's a bulky gas-mask like thing that's uncomfortable and distracting to wear since it outputs more air than is necessary for her to breathe, constantly. "But it's way better to wear a mask without being attacked by gas than to breathe gas without a mask." She puts it on.

She... Watches for a little while, trying to map out the grove and look for anything else that might be a threat than sex pollen. Maybe her intuition would warn her, maybe not. Be Prepared!

Intuitively, this place doesn't really feel very dangerous; nothing here seems to have a harmful intent. In fact, so long as Wynn wears her mask and keeps her distance, nothing here is even the least bit threatening. Unfortunately, given the rubbing action Wynn can see from the vines, they're probably pretty mobile, and she'd have to pass within grabbing range of multiple flowers to get within touch range of her target.

On closer examination, the girl enjoying the tentacles' affections seems to be embedded in the largest and healthiest-looking flower; the rest are all somewhat smaller and less shiny. For that matter, every flower here is within a stone's throw of the grove's center.

They're probably not really much of a threat to her, she's not feeling even the subtle spikes of concern that the wolf packs give her now that her (annoying, intrusive) mask is on. And she's so much quicker in this new body that it's not even funny. They couldn't touch a single hair on her head - or tail - if she doesn't want 'em to.

She still plans her route carefully to minimize contact. She dashes into the field to a clear spot away from the pods, and looks closer at the poor trapped woman, thinking about how to free her. Construct magic, probably, but hmm...

The flowers make a cursory attempt to grab Wynn, but she's too quick for their feeble attempts to succeed. She could probably even get away with milking some "perfume" from the flowers, if she wanted to push her luck a little.

On closer examination, there's definitely some tentacles inside the central flower's "victim". Like, really far inside; so far inside that Wynn can sort of make out the shape of her intestines from the way her guts are bulging around the intruders. On Earth, that alone would be the sort of penetration that would require a team of doctors and hours of surgery to safely handle, even ignoring the fact that the offending limbs are still attached to a living plant that's filling her with unknown fluids. Said victim, for her part, responds to Wynn's arrival with a giggle and a cheeky wave.

"Christ, it's really got you good, doesn't it? And without a mask-" She shivers. It must be overwhelming. Kind of hot to think about, if also extremely fucking scary. "Are you... Stuck, or...?"

Her expression is dreamy and blissful as she replies, "Oh yeah, I'm real stuck!" She giggles some more, than continues, "It's got tendrils alllll the way up my ass, and my womb's all stretched out and full of seeds. It's sooooooo good! You should try it!"

"Oh, hell." She feels kind of sick, the more she thinks about it. "And how long will I end up stuck there? Do you want out?"